Holding Tight and Letting Go
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: A racy interlude to chase away that Saint Teresa image. Strictly PWP and not at all subtle! AU where Red John is already dead. Warning! This story has strong sexual content. If you don't like that type of material, do not read this! Disclaimer: I do not own anything about The Mentalist.


Teresa's Lisbon's dreams were hot! And these were not even sexy dreams or she would wake herself and turn to the man sleeping beside her to make them real. She was overheated. She awoke drenched in sweat and unable to move. The restriction brought her to near panic until she awoke enough to realize what held her.

It was Patrick Jane, whimpering in his sleep, squeezing her so close and tight that it was hard to breathe. His arms completely encircled her at the chest and shoulders and the rest of his body was spooned against her backside, undulating not in sexual excitement, but in an impossible attempt to get even closer. His legs lapped over hers, hooking them, with his heels dug painfully into the bone of her shins. Patrick's face was buried in her hair, now damp and sticking against her neck. The sounds from his throat spoke of hurt and loss, of refusal to relinquish what someone was attempting to take from him.

Teresa whispered low at first, not wanting to startle him. "Patrick." His desperate hold on her tightened until she squeaked in mild pain. "Sweetheart. Wake up. You're dreaming. I'm right here. I'm not going away."

Patrick stilled in his sleep, as if listening to something far away, but did not release her or wake.

Teresa managed to slide her top leg from the grip of his heel and roll her lower body a little forward, welcoming the cooling space between them. She reached behind her hips to brush her hand low on him and found his sleepy goods as slick with sweat as she. Gently, almost imperceptibly Teresa brushed her fingers on him. She cooed his name. Surely this would be a soothing way to wake up after a bad dream. Nothing stirred. He was very deeply asleep! Lowering her hand a bit, Teresa tickled the most sensitive places, using a finger to bounce the sleepy head of his penis.

Patrick huffed slightly in his sleep and pushed his hips forward a little. Encouraged, Teresa continued to touch and tease, brush and squeeze as she felt him lengthen and thicken quickly. Backing her hips into him, she used them to brush against him, guiding him along the crease of her bottom.

Patrick moaned and started to regain consciousness. The blood filling his male parts was pleasurable and demanding. Why was he so hot and sweaty? Why was Teresa practically pasted to him? As he woke, he realized he had been gripping her in his sleep again.

"Oh. Oh! Teresa I'm sorry. I did it again." He kissed below her ear.

"That's okay, Patrick. I know why it is you hold me so tight."

Patrick sighed. Teresa did know. She was steamed like a lobster almost every night. By almost losing her, he'd almost lost everything in the final confrontation with Red John. But that was over now. The evil freak was dead and could no longer threaten anyone. Patrick cursed that the man was still haunting his dreams.

Just now, however, he wasn't dreaming. This was flesh and blood Teresa Lisbon being very inventive in getting him to wake up and release his hold on her. Patrick wanted to take her, pin her to the bed and make her moan helplessly under him.

More than that, he wanted Teresa to continue sweeping her flesh against his stiffening and swelling male anatomy! He had enough length now that the plump head would catch in the cleft that shaped the heart of her fanny and then bounce loose as she continued to travel against him. When Patrick loosened his arms from her, Teresa arched her back so that her hips would allow him to penetrate her when he was ready. Patrick pushed against her shoulders and Teresa lowered her torso, improving their position even more. Then she lifted her leg and bent her knee, placing a foot just so on the bed. It was more beautiful than ballet to Patrick.

The sight of this beautiful woman, bonded in all important ways to him, positioning herself to give him sexual access set his male blood at a boil. Lowering his own hips, he lodged himself in her sweet nether lips and slithered in the gathering juices there. With a cry born of intense pleasure, Patrick plunged into her, sliding easily through her silken interior grip.

How many times had they done this now? He didn't actually know without taking the time to count. Maybe not quite this way. But every time he entered Teresa, it felt like a new experience. The shock of her warmth, the waves of soft muscle that closed around his him hungrily, the angle, the breathtaking slide tripped something inside his heart that made him love her and want her as if for the first time.

Teresa arched her back even more, pushing her hips almost flat against him, encouraging him deeper. Every thrust from Patrick was a caress, a deep probe that satisfied Teresa like kisses. Her breathed relief was an almost musical, "Ah!" at the bottom of each thrust. Patrick loved to make Teresa call out in pleasure. Sometimes he even got her to talk dirty to him. That was the best. Dirty love talk from Teresa Lisbon. Just for his ears!

Patrick reached around to fondle her breasts, lightly rolling and pinching her nipples. Teresa gave a little yelp and buried her hips against him, twisting them but holding him deep inside her. It made Patrick almost light-headed with desire. But Teresa seemed to be in a hurry this morning. She was whining and huffing fretfully. With a little more encouragement and a little less cooperation from Patrick, he could frustrate her enough to get her to demand what she wanted in no uncertain terms. He loved it when she would completely let go of anything Saint Teresa and demand her satisfaction from him exactly as she wanted it. He slowed and began kissing her neck and shoulders.

A clamorous and exacting lust was building in Teresa just as Patrick stopped moving in her and dallied at her neck. Frustration and desire built together. He was teasing her on purpose to get her to lose control! She always tried to hold back against this feeling because if she let go, she would end up hollering filthy directions that made her want to hide later. Patrick seemed to love it. Her neck? Really? Now?

Teresa started to whine, hoping he would show mercy and fuck her properly. See! Already, her thoughts were becoming unguarded, insistent and base. Patrick showed no sign of reading her mind or understanding the language of whine.

"What is it, what do you want, Teresa?" Patrick was determined to make her start talking.

Unwilling to withhold from him any longer and actually thwart her own ends, Teresa released the voice inside her that only knew want. "My clit. Patrick, my clit!"

Smiling, his own excitement now off the scale in anticipation of what Teresa might demand next, Patrick slid his arm lower to find the engorged bud, slippery with her moisture, and began to massage it with the flat of his fingers. Teresa made a sound like she was falling off a cliff, and then called out breathily, "Little dick! Little dick!"

The edge in her voice said she was not begging but directing. And Patrick knew just what she meant. It was her dirty little way of demanding that he take her clit between his thumb and finger and stroke it like he was masturbating a tiny penis. It was delicate work, but he could feel the organ lengthen slightly and gain the definition needed for him to do just as Teresa asked. Patrick could sense that dirty love talk was not far away.

Teresa seemed to be alternating between mewling and an enticing low growl. Patrick pressed his mouth beside Teresa's ear. "What do you want, Teresa? Tell me. Tell me dirty! You know I love that!"

"Suck me! Suck me!"

"Where, Teresa? Where do you want me to suck you?"

"My clit! My pussy! Now, Patrick! Please!"

"What are you going to do for me if I suck you, Teresa?" Patrick was as breathless as the woman in his arms.

"Suck your cock! I'm going to suck your cock, Patrick, until you scream! Now, suck me!"

Patrick pulled out of Teresa and flipped her towards him onto her back. "Spread you legs wide for me, Teresa, wider. Show me your pussy."

Teresa obeyed. She was so limber from her own heat and activity that her open legs lay nearly flat against the bed, her knees slightly crooked.

"That's it. So pretty, so slick." Her soft, swollen core looked like strawberry gelato, melting, needing to be licked and consumed! All modesty gone, Teresa was completely open, frisking her fluff of pubic hair and groaning impatiently as Patrick quickly inverted his position to take her into his mouth and work her lovingly, bringing her to the edge and then easing her back, only to drive her further the next time. Patrick kept her just shy of orgasm, while Teresa tried to steal it, pressing and sliding against his mouth and tongue.

Teresa was becoming overwhelmed sexually. Patrick knew this because she was starting to cry. It made her seem so kittenish and triggered such tenderness in Patrick that all he wanted to do was scoop her into his arms. But he knew better than to do that just now because she was so close to orgasm, probably almost numb. It was time to distract her and let her rebuild in a minute.

Still inverted from Teresa and painfully hard, Patrick started rubbing himself against her shoulder and arm. She turned to him and grasped his shaft, pulling him to her mouth and licking with her overheated tongue.

"Oh god, Teresa. That feels so good. Lick me all over. Please!"

Teresa wrapped him with both hands, licking him up and down, laving even his balls. Then she took him into her soft mouth and started sucking, working her hands in tandem. Patrick pulled her hips to his face and began to lick and suck on her again, paying particular attention to the tender, swollen nub at the apex of her legs, marveling as the tiny organ stiffened inside its hood and lengthened slightly as if to give him better purchase on her.

With a breathy call, Teresa surged into her climax, then relishied the remains of her release by sucking and mouthing Patrick slow and deep, drawing on him with her hands in long, pressured strokes. She started calling him to follow her, humming on him as if she was eating something so tasty. "Teresa!" Patrick's release was strong and almost overwhelmed him. It gave him an inkling about why Teresa would cry sometimes.

Teresa came to Patrick for kisses as Patrick continued to come down from his orgasm. She had semen around her lips, on her neck and chest. All she wanted was his lips. She plunged her tongue into his mouth and tangled his in a sensuous dance. She wanted more! He could feel himself, barely deflated, surge to life before her eagerness for him. She pushed him to his back and climbed atop, mounting him swiftly but then holding a moment to be sure he wanted this round.

"Fuck me, Teresa. Fuck me hard!" Patrick could be driven to dirty talk, too.

Teresa didn't need further encouragement, riding him at an angle only possible with her on top. Her shoulders were fairly still, but her hips snaked him up and down, responding to some feral call. The sensation was drawing Patrick into her pending storm. She grasped his forearms for even more leverage as she arched and threw her head back, her tight, reddened nipples bouncing on plump flushed breasts. Teresa looked primeval and utterly beautiful, setting loose the wild feminine that was her core. Patrick felt mindless in the sensation she was creating, losing his body boundaries and melting into hers. When her core began to pulse around him, it quickly transferred to his entire being and dragged him into something transcendent as he emptied himself into her.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." The words seemed to flow from Teresa with her breath. Patrick wrapped his arms around her and answered, "I love you, Teresa. Beautiful, beautiful woman. My Teresa. I love you."

Later, both totally spent, they lay breathing and cooling in delicious recovery. Patrick spoke in wonder, "What WAS that? Did you feel that?"

Teresa ran her hand through her hair, shaking her head a little, then turned and kissed the side of his face. "I think that was us, Patrick, you and me together like one energy. Yes, I felt it. I've never felt that with anyone before."

Patrick looked into her eyes. "No. Not anyone."

They lay in peace with each other, love feeding them both. They were a mess in the wake of that love, sticky, sweaty, pungent and totally wrecked. But at a level of happiness that neither had ever expected to find.


End file.
